The colours kept changing, no matter how many times I pulled the lever.

The walls of the hotel room were false and could be pushed away to infinity; My legs hurt trying to push them.

Dream Girl was hiding in the maze. Everytime I got close enough to hear her, she would laugh and disappear. She had fairy wings and glitter on her face. I picked flowers and leaves for her, but she berated me for destroying the plants. I hung my head in shame, and she forgave me instantly.

We Smooched for hours and the hedges and plants grew around us, keeping us warm and dry when it started raining. Soon we were plants ourselves.

It hurt when we were pruned.

I am attending some very small college, where each year's class contains maybe a dozen students. I am a freshman, but for some reason unstated, members of the sophomore class want me to become a member of their class.

I am standing in line somewhere and someone comments on my feminine hips. I am in one of those states where I am seeing myself from an observer's perspective, so I can see myself from behind and understand what these guys are talking about. It's true, my butt protrudes at a fairly extreme angle, far more pronounced than reality, I'm sure.

Something about a newpaper story that is covering the effort to move me up a class. Also, there is this pervasive air of discomfort about the attention that my hips are attracting from these men. While there must have been some dialogue, what's remembered is the awkwardness of the conversation.

For some reason it seems significant that the landscape of the college is extremely horizontal, no hills, very little variation in topography.

In a separate sequence there is a conversation with my mother about the choices she made in raising me, and how she felt pressured to do things that didn't feel right to her.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.